My Bloody Valentine
by kid in the closet
Summary: This is a songfic to My Bloody Valentine by Good Charlotte. Rated for blood and language


AN: hello people, my debut fanfic! Well... songfic to be specific. I won't ramble for everyone's sake but I have to say not mine! Any of it. Not even the smith and wesson... that's sanzo's. sigh. Please forgive me if it sucks... if i does i deserve flames... well... on to the fic you wonderfil people! Pretty please r&r for me...?

* * *

Shuichi had been coming home late recently and Eiri Yuki was lapsing into a cold calculating state of mind. The sky was darkly clouded and the storm was raging directly over head. 

Yuki was walking nonchalantly down the sidewalk, the only one daring to come outside in the wicked weather. It was undeniably daunting, but, nevertheless there was something Yuki had to do.

_** Oh my love, please don't cry,**_

_** I'll wash my bloody hands and**_

_** we'll start a new life.**_

He didn't bother getting in his car, he was already halfway to the sidewalk before he thought of it anyway. It didn't matter. The storm was... fitting somehow. It seemed impossible for the stars to be out when there was such a deed to be done.

The writer was more than halfway to his destination now. Despite walking, Yuki was making good time. It was good. The faster he got it over with the less time he had to dwell on it. Dwelling was never the best idea. Shuichi . . . his Shuichi was giving the telltale signs. Out late, money unaccounted for, even – Yuki sneered to think about it – hickeys. Well . . . Yuki had only seen one but there was the scent of sex and someone else's cologne. Yuki knew who it was. And they were going to die.

_** I ripped out his throat**_

_** and called you on the telephone**_

_** to take off my disguise . . .**_

The house was coming into view and Eiri went over his plans again. Once approaching, he rapped sharply on the door. His blonde hair was drenched and dripping in the rain was just about everything else. The soaked golden strands were plastered to his face and his eyes were far colder than the rain.

"Hello. Oh . . . Yuki-san." The man glanced behind himself before closing the door. The silencer was in place. It was cocked. Hiroshi Nakano had come face to barrel with a .45 Smith & Wesson. He swore his heart stopped.

_** Just in time to hear you cry**_

_** when you, you mourned the death**_

_** of your bloody valentine**_

_** the night he died.**_

_** you mourned the death of your **_

_** bloody valentine.**_

Rather than pulling the trigger just yet, though, Yuki smacked the barrel across Hiro's face. "Hello Nakano-san."

_** Oh my love, please don't cry.**_

_** I'll wash my bloody hands and **_

_** we'll start a new life. **_

_** I don't know much at all**_

_** and I don't know wrong from right**_

_** all I know is that I love you**_

_** Tonight.**_

The guitarist fell to the ground and Yuki grabbed the back of Hiro's hair and pulled him to his feet. "Walk with me?" His voice was icy and he pressed the gun to Hiro's side.

"What . . . what is you doing?" his head hurting and vision swimming, Hiro was getting close to panicking. He'd have to tell the cops, have to tell Shuichi somehow. With a sudden idea he switched on the two-way radio mode of his Nextel, previously clipped to his belt, and, after turning the volume on his end all the way down he slipped it into his pocket.

Eiri smiled cruelly, wondering if he himself had given Kitazawa the same look. "What are _you_ doing? Particularly with your bandmates?"

_** There were police and flashing lights,**_

_** the rain came down so hard that night.**_

_** Headlines read "a lover dies." **_

_** no telltale heart was left to find **_

_** when you, you mourned the death**_

_** of your bloody valentine.**_

Shuichi's head snapped up. "Yuki?" he could have sworn that he'd heard Yuki's voice.

"So this is about Shuichi?" That was Hiro's voice. It sounded like he was right there.

"Hiro?" Shuichi was getting confused. Hiroshi had just left and now Shuichi was hearing him _and_ Yuki. He shook his head slowly. "I must be crazy."

_** The night he died **_

_** you mourned the death of your **_

_** bloody valentine.**_

_** One last time. **_

_** Oh my love, please don't cry.**_

_** I'll wash my bloody hands and we'll start a new life. **_

_** I don't know much at all,**_

_** and I don't know wrong from right.**_

_** All I know is I love you tonight. **_

Muffled by the silencer, the gun went off and Hiro's sunrises were forever extinguished. The two had made it to a dead end road, how fitting! There the novelist had put and end to life, career, and dreams. Hiroshi fell to the ground, shot in the stomach, still alive enough – albeit barely – to listen to Eiri Yuki's accusations.

"You fucked him. You fucked his brains out, didn't you?" Yuki's blonde head was tilted forward and finally some pain was beginning to show. It was as though, after mortally wounding the person his lover had been traipsing about with, now, and only now, he could relieve himself of the contents of his mind and heart.

Knowing that there was nothing to save him and that he was already condemned, Hiro decided that honesty might lighten the scales and allow him to rest. "Twice. It . . . was me though." Talking was difficult and he was faintly tasting the copper of blood in his mouth. "I . . . kind of pressured him into it." Hiro's eyes couldn't focus.

Funny, Yuki thought, I can only seem to have a heart to heart with someone who is dying. Although the situations were drastically different Yuki found himself thinking of Kitazawa.

_** He dropped you off I followed him home**_

_** then I stood outside his bedroom window **_

_** standing over him, he begged me not to do**_

_** what I knew I had to do**_

'_**cause I'm so in love with you.**_

It was then that Eiri wondered... if in a way... he was dead. If you aren't living ... feeling, seeing... enjoying... then you must be dead. A part of him must have died back then. Back with Kitazawa.

"You pressured him?" a small pathetic sick smirk touched Yuki's lips at what seemed to be chivalry. "Are you saying you wouldn't change it? Him for you, your life for his?"

"Would you?" And with that Hiro died. He died leaving his killer to wonder and planting the seed of guilt– a far worse punishment than any other. Guilt grew into self loathing and that... that could lead anywhere.

_** Oh my love, please don't cry**_

_** I'll wash my bloody hands and we'll start a new life.**_

Eiri's shaking fingers punched the buttons. Three rings then there was an answer.

"Hello?"

"Shuichi..."


End file.
